


Mountain Sounds

by itsallaboutflowermetaphors



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, First Kiss, Fox Marco Bott, Knight Jean Kirstein, M/M, No Full Shift, Or a bedroll actually, Sharing a Bed, Shifter Marco Bott, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallaboutflowermetaphors/pseuds/itsallaboutflowermetaphors
Summary: Jean Kirschstein, a knight from the small village of Trost, is on his way to visit his best friends in Dauper when a wolf attacks him in the middle of the forest. Later an attractive stranger appears in Jean’s clearing. He has a fox tail. Shifter were always only a myth. Jean is irritated and curious.





	Mountain Sounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [folf_world](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folf_world/gifts).



> Folf requested fox hybrid!Marco and knight!Marco, ft. a wolf attack, being saved and Connie and Sasha teasing them. 
> 
> Dear Folf, I hope you like it! Happy holidays!! 
> 
> Beta's by [theprophetlemonade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprophetlemonade/pseuds/theprophetlemonade). Except the last 330 words because I'm a procrastinator.  
> There's also an Inspo playlist on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/_rain/playlist/3QiVrJkSQ52lh1UwbJSJtR).  
> Title is from Mountain Sounds by Of Monster and Men but the lyrics are irrelevant to the fic. *shrug*

Jean is setting up camp when his horse snorts. 

 

He looks up from where he’s about to build a fire for the night, to check on it. Her call is unusual and her body language alarms him, too. Morello is in high alert, her ears pricked forward and eyes wide. She hears or smells something Jean is unable to, and it frightens her. The forest around them is already darkening, nightfall approaching fast. In the back of his head, Jean knows that he should have set up camp earlier, but he was stubborn and pushed forward until he had to admit that he wasn’t going to make it to Dauper by nightfall. 

 

Jean reaches for the sword attached to his belt, a precaution in case there’s something out there; an animal, or someone; bandits, hiding in the shadows around him. He’s hoping it’s only a deer and that Morello is more fearful than usual. He draws his sword because the chances of whatever is out there being friendly are slim. 

 

A branch snaps behind him and Jean and spins around quickly. 

 

There’s a wolf in the clearing. 

 

Jean’s heart pounds, he can feel it in his throat. The wolf is big, head raised high, ready to pounce. Jean knows he has to stand his ground; it’s a lot more likely to attack fleeing prey; he has to calm Morello, too, so she doesn’t run. They just have to stay calm and the wolf will leave, Jean tells himself

 

He inches towards Morello, eyes flickering to the bridle and reins, checking if they are secure. He’s somewhat relieved when they look good. With his eyes on the beast just across the clearing, he can do nothing but mutter calming words in Morello’s direction. 

 

Suddenly, there’s a loud noise in the thicket beyond the clearing, like an animal suddenly taking off, paws hitting leaves and branches. The wolf’s head swivels to follow the noise, eyes widening and nose curling before he takes off with a leap, disappearing into the forest. 

 

Jean feels as if the forest floor is shaking under him, as the weight of the wolf’s paw hitting the ground causes an earthquake. In the back of his mind, he knows it isn’t true, but still, he’s terrified, thinks he’s shaking as his sword slides from his grip and falls to the floor. 

 

Jean takes a few shuddering breaths, his blood loud in his ears; he reaches out for Morello, braces himself against her, and runs his hands over her fur in an attempt to calm both her and himself.

 

He’s aware that he should leave: the wolf found them and can do so again. But the forest is also dark, full of predators and Dauper still far away. 

 

In the end, Jean decides to stay, quickly lighting the fire to keep more predators away. 

 

He’s taking off Morello’s saddle when he hears another noise behind him. It’s not the normal forest noises he’s usually able to ignore; it’s more like someone stepping on a twig. He turns around to check it out. He hopes the wolf isn’t back.

The wolf isn’t back. 

 

Instead there’s a man standing across the clearing from him. He’s tall, maybe in his mid-twenties, dressed in simple breeches and a wide tunic. His hair is brown and he smiles faintly. 

 

Jean frowns; the man isn’t armed.

“Who are you?” he asks, eyebrows knitted. 

 

The man opens his mouth, but no words come out. He closes it again, instead shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

 

After a few seconds he opens his mouth again. “I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says. 

 

The statement leaves Jean confused. “You know about the wolf?”

 

“Of course I know about it. These woods aren’t safe at night. Especially if you don’t build a fire immediately.” 

 

Jean sets his saddle down and moves to poke the fire with a stick. “Well, it’s lit now, isn’t it?” he asks, irritated by the strange man showing up in his camp and speaking in riddles. 

 

“It is,” the stranger agrees. He’s still smiling. Jean doesn’t understand. 

 

“Who are you? Why are you in the forest if you claim it’s dangerous? Unarmed?” he repeats, eyeing the man closely. 

 

The stranger shifts under his gaze, wringing his hands. “It’s different for me,” he explains slowly. He sounds unsure and, with the next shift of his feet, Jean notices something swishing behind the stranger’s legs. 

 

Suddenly everything clicks into place and Jean exclaims, “You’re a shifter!”

 

The man’s hands fly up, covering animal ears that aren’t there, his eyes are wide. 

 

“Shit!”

 

Jean frowns. “I saw the tail,” he says, pointing at it with his stick, though he probably shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. At that, the shifter’s tail swishes violently, clearly visible behind his legs, but he lowers his hands. Jean supposes he has given up trying to hide it. 

 

“I’m Marco,” the shifter says instead. 

 

Jean is a bit confused. Maybe he should have anticipated that shifters have names, but  he has never met one before, he assumed they were a myth—a myth some people took too seriously. Every tiny village had that one elder claiming they met a shifter in their youth. 

 

But maybe Jean has to admit they are real; he’s standing across from one after all. 

 

“Jean Kirschstein,” he says at last and sits down on his bedroll, watching Marco across the fire. “Do you not want me to stay?” 

 

Marco shakes his head. “No,” he says, “it’s safe enough with the fire.”

 

When Marco makes no move to leave, Jean can’t help but ask, “Are you going to stay?” 

 

Marco looks around, seemingly nervous again, so Jean changes his question. The shifter seems friendly enough after all. 

 

“Do you want to stay?” 

 

Marco nods hesitantly and settles down on the forest floor cross-legged, not quite across from Jean like before, but still a good gap between them. Jean can see his tail now. It’s a deep auburn color with a white tip.  _ Fox _ , his brain supplies. It’s pretty. 

 

Marco is staring into the fire and Jean studies him more intently; his face is covered in small freckles, especially across his cheeks and nose. After a few more moments, Jean turns away from Marco, dragging his saddlebag close to the fire to dig through it. He comes up with a small loaf of bread and some cured meat. 

 

“Do you want some?” he asks, holding it up. Marco nods and crawls closer to accept it. Jean tears the bread in half, and gives it and some of the meat to Marco. 

 

They eat in silence, the fire flickering across their faces and the forest rustling around them. After they finish, Marco gets up to gather a few more branches, stacking them in the fire to keep it going through the night. 

 

Jean is curling up on his bedroll when he realizes that Marco has no place to sleep. Unless the bare forest floor is a place to sleep.

 

“Marco,” he says softly and Marco looks up from where he is poking the fire, “Do you want to share? You shouldn’t have to sleep on the ground.” 

 

Marco looks unsure, but agrees. He settles next to Jean, and Jean turns away from the fire so they lie back to back. Jean lies awake for a few minutes before he has to admit that the blanket over them is too small and Marco is blocking him from the warmth of the fire.  _ You don’t just snuggle up to a stranger you met in the woods an hour earlier _ , Jean tells himself.

He shivers, but doesn’t do anything about it. 

 

But, eventually, he falls asleep. 

 

Upon waking, Jean is confused. He isn’t clutching his thin blanket, but instead, his fingertips rest on something warm and soft—something that moves ever so slightly. He forces his eyes open, and then blinks in confusion. There’s brown hair in front of his face and it takes him a moment to realize why it’s there. 

 

Marco. The shifter, who came to his camp last night. The shifter he is currently cuddling, one of his arms around him and Marco’s face buried in his chest. 

 

Jean slowly extracts himself from Marco’s sleeping form, sits up, and takes deep breaths once the situation is under control again. Or, as under control as it can be, really. 

 

Which just means that Marco wouldn’t know they cuddled. 

 

Jean can’t believe that he had  _ cuddled _ with a stranger in his sleep. And an attractive one at that. 

 

Below him, Marco shifts in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes. He rubs his eyes and then yawns. 

 

_ He looks goddamn pretty _ , Jean thinks. Prettier than anyone should ever look after waking up. 

 

Jean averts his gaze, looking into the last glowing embers of the fire instead. “Are you hungry?” he asks, “I want to leave for Dauper soon.”

 

Out of the corner of Jean’s eye, Marco sits up slowly, tail curling in his lap and he blinks in confusion. Jean is acting weird and Marco feels like he missed something. A voice in the back of his head tells him he should be feeling colder. 

Jean digs through his saddle bag again and offers Marco another piece of bread. He accepts it and starts eating. 

 

After a while he says, “I can get you to Dauper faster. If you want to.”

  
  
  


A less embarrassed Jean would probably reply with something witty, but Jean is still thinking about waking up with Marco pressed against him. There’s nothing wrong with staying with Marco for a while longer, Jean tells himself. He is curious about shifters.

 

“Okay, lead the way,” he replies. 

  
  


They pack up Jean’s belongings and start to trek through the forest. Marco is walking ahead, his tail no longer visible, while Jean clutches Morello’s reins. Riding her and making Marco walk seems wrong. 

 

It only takes them an hour, although the route is unfamiliar to Jean, to reach Dauper. Marco is about to slip back into the forest when Jean stops him, grasping his shirtsleeve. He did it without thinking about it, slowly his brain is catching up with his body. 

 

“Stay?” he asks, surprising himself, his voice thin. Jean can’t explain it but he feels like he needs to say it, needs this magical being to stay. He’s afraid, he realizes, he will lose Marco forever if the shifter disappears into the woods now.

 

Marco smiles a wary smile, “You want me to stay?”

 

Jean nods, his mind made up, “Of course.”

Later that day, Jean introduces Marco to his friends Connie and Sasha. They are the innkeepers in town and in moments like this one, Jean questions why he calls them his friends. They are impudent at best and start to tease Jean about his new companion as soon as Sasha sets down tankards and bowls of steaming stew in front of them. 

They sit at a small table in a corner, Marco’s tail still hidden.

 

“Aw, Jeanbo,” she coos, leaning against table, “You didn’t tell us you were bringing a pretty companion.”

 

Connie is next to her and repeats, “A  _ ‘companion’,  _ huh?”, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

 

Jean can feel his blush rising up his face and he wants to bury his face in his hands and hide. Next to him, Marco splutters, covering it up with a cough. He’s red in the face, too.  

 

“How did he convince you to travel with him? Did he confess his undying love for you in front of the entire town?” Sasha asks, a wide grin on her face and Connie adds, “Did he compliment your pretty hair?” 

 

The both of them double over in laughter.

 

“Stop it,” Jean whines, resting his head in his hands at last. He can hear his friends giggle some more before they leave. 

 

“You did that?” 

 

Marco sounds curious. Jean groans.

 

“When I was 12, they won’t let it go” he confesses. Marco laughs at that. 

 

They keep talking after that, drink another beer. Jean is usually a bit of a loner but Marco is funny, his eyes shining when he tells a story is particularly passionate about. Jean quickly realizes he likes listening to Marco, likes looking at him. 

 

They retire for the night pleasantly drunk—Sasha gave them Jean’s usual room, Jean isn’t sure if she’s messing with them with the single bed—the sun is long gone from the horizon and Jean closes the door behind them. 

 

Marco smiles at him and his tail swishes behind his legs again. His hands are curled at his side and he’s blushing and Jean doesn’t know why until Marco tentatively asks, “May I?”

And Jean understands what he means, suddenly understands why he wants to be close to Marco.

 

“Yes”

 

The other steps closer at that and one of his hands cradles Jean’s face. Then Marco’s kissing him and it feels magical. When Jean opens his eyes again Marco is smiling at him and fox ears are poking out of his curly mop of hair. 

 

When Marco sees Jean’s eyes widen one of his hands flies to his head, touching one. 

“Sorry if I frightened you, the ears and tail appear when I’m nervous.”

 

Jean only nods and kisses Marco again. 

  
  


The next morning Jean wakes up with Marco in his arms again. This time he doesn’t pull back but tightens his arms around Marco instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Once again the JMGE pushed me out of my comfort zone.  
> I researched the sexual characteristics of foxes but ended up not writing it. maybe someday I will write about boning with a boning bone. 
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/RainySidewalk), [tumblr](http://itsallaboutflowermetaphors.tumblr.com) and [dreamwidth](https://allaboutflowermetaphors.dreamwidth.org)  
> 


End file.
